


Planting Something New

by Lady_Phenyx



Series: Fluffvember 2019 [22]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Cooking Lessons, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, His tail is at least, Invisible Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Platonic Cuddling, Snusmumriken | Snufkin Has Paws and a Tail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21526393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: Mumriks, like cats, have their own ways of showing affection. But if you know what the signs are, then you'll understand what they're saying. And how to say it back.(Or, a bit over three thousand words of Moominmamma and Snufkin bonding/slowly adopting each other.)Fluffvember Day 22: Gardening | Cooking
Relationships: Muminmamman | Moominmamma & Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Series: Fluffvember 2019 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533602
Comments: 24
Kudos: 238





	Planting Something New

Moominmamma looked out the window over the sink, down the hill to where Snufkin's tent sat.

They'd been getting closer and closer, and she considered him one of hers by now, but she wasn't quite sure how he thought of her. He was old enough, had been on his own long enough, he didn't need a mother. But she couldn't deny she had the urge to take care of him, as much as he'd let her.

But how...?

Watching as he prepared his meal – Snufkin was willing to eat at her table, and did on a much more regular basis than he once had, but he still made his own quite often – she had a sudden idea.

It would have to wait a bit, but...yes, she could do it. It wouldn't be so much in his life that he'd reject it, and they could pretend it wasn't specifically for him if he felt he couldn't...humming, Moominmamma went back to cooking and planning.

She just wished she could show she cared without having to be so...so roundabout. But until Snufkin was ready, if ever, well...she'd respect his boundaries. She couldn't love him and do any less.

\---XXX---

Snufkin appeared at the kitchen door the next day, a bit shyer than usual, hovering uncertainly for a moment before stepping inside.

Moominmamma looked up from her cooking to greet him happily, pausing in what she was doing.

Snufkin crossed to the sink and washed his paws before picking up a knife and silently starting to help Moominmamma with the cooking.

“Oh, you don't have to...” she started, pausing when Snufkin shook his head, a small smile playing around his lips.

She smiled herself at that point and went back to cooking, the two of them chopping vegetables in quiet.

This was a recipe Snufkin wasn't familiar with, and Moominmamma found herself teaching it to him, guiding him through the steps patiently.

She thought he would leave at some point, tired of being instructed in what to do, but instead he seemed to be enjoying the attention, leaning in when she patted his shoulder or touched him lightly to guide him through a new (to him) technique.

He stayed for dinner, of course, brushing off any praise he might have gotten for making dinner, pointing out that Moominmamma walked him through how to cook it, so it was still her doing.

Snufkin headed to the kitchen to help with the dishes, glancing between Moomin, Little My, and the kitchen.

It took a few glances before Moomin and Little My got the hint.

Moominmamma and Snufkin cooked, it was only fair someone else did the cleaning up (so long as the chefs didn't deliberately make extra dishes).

They needed a few pointers to get it right without breaking anything, but Moominmamma was patient and they were willing, so it didn't matter. People weren't born knowing how to do these things, after all.

\---XXX---

That wasn't the last time Snufkin stopped by to help and learn while Moominmamma cooked.

He brought by fish one day after a particularly successful catch, and it was his turn to teach Moominmamma a recipe he'd learned on his travels, one she didn't get to do often as it required things like an open fire, and she hadn't heard of it before.

He looked incredibly pleased when she sat him down after dinner to write the recipe into Grandmother's book, but that was its purpose – to be always updated and changed, a living guide.

But much more often it was Moominmamma teaching him, and Snufkin leaning into her casual, motherly touches as if he were starved for them.

\---XXX---

Moominmamma knew she should be teaching Moomin how to cook, but he hadn't shown interest in it yet.

And...it was turning into something she and Snufkin shared, a time for her to bond with her half feral son, almost too precious to share.

Though he wasn't as half feral as he had been when they'd first met.

She wasn't sure when, if ever, he would be able to use some of these recipes – he usually only had a campfire, pot, kettle, and pan to cook with. That didn't seem to matter to Snufkin.

He didn't come for a lesson or to cook silently with Moominmamma everyday, or even on a regular basis. He might come two days in a row, then not show up for three.

Sometimes he would come with mushrooms or berries or fish, some food he'd found or caught, and sometimes by himself.

It didn't matter, as Moominmamma welcomed him warmly each time.

And Snufkin loved every quiet minute they shared in the warm, fragrant kitchen, showing it in small ways – the way he leaned into Mamma's touches, the way he brought her things, the way his eyes lit up as he came in.

The way he continued to come to her, again and again.

\---XXX---

Moominmamma had been carefully selecting plants from her garden, berries and fruits and vegetables, digging them up and into pots, ready to transplant, waiting for the right time.

She waited for a night when she knew Snufkin was exhausted and wouldn't wake while she worked, and worked through the night to get it all finished.

She only got a few hours sleep that night, but it was worth it to see the look on Snufkin's face when he came out of his tent and saw the garden planted by his tent, filled with the fruits and vegetables she knew he loved.

“You don't eat enough of these unless you're at our home,” she said to his startled confusion. “So now you can have them whenever you like. I'll show you how to make more of them than what we've gone over so far, if you'd like. All you need to do is make sure they get enough water, and I'll cook them for you whenever you like.”

Snufkin blinked at her slowly a few times before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her fur, purring deeply as he rubbed her cheek against her fur.

And behind him, a tail faded into view, waving joyfully.

\---XXX---

Moominmamma noticed more and more often after that how Snufkin started leaving the 'Moomin' part off of her name.

It wasn't always, and he'd done it a time or two before this, but now, it felt more deliberate. A bit as if he were waiting for her to notice, to see if she minded.

And he began returning her casual touch. He did it with Moomin, with Snorkmaiden and Little My and Moominpappa, but it started with her.

Sometimes, when he was just greeting her or about to leave, he would hesitate, as if he wanted to ask for something but wasn't sure yet if he could as for, if he wanted to, if she would want to.

But nearly each time, when Moominmamma opened her arms to offer a hug, he slipped into them and squeezed back.

The first time Snufkin offered the hug Moominmamma could have cried with joy, holding him tight as their tails swung gently.

She didn't press about the tail. And though the others wanted to, looked at it often, they waited.

He'd tell when he was ready.

\---XXX---

The story was almost heartbreaking for Moominmamma in its simplicity.

“I don't remember why I went invisible. I know it helped me get out, and helped me get started on my own. Some things just...hadn't come back until now.”

He looked down at a paw, flexing it gently and smiling before glancing up at Moominmamma. “I guess I just needed to find the right people.”

\---XXX---

Snufkin and Moomin came in, laughing and wringing out coats and putting up the hat, having been caught by the edge of the storm that was ripping through Moomin Valley.

Moomin had rushed out after Snufkin as soon as he'd seen the vagabond moving about his camp, worried about the weather.

Moominmamma could only catch parts of what they were saying, but it sounded as though Snufkin had been about to flee for somewhere more weather tight than his tent (which could handle most weather, but this was a monster of a storm, and they could already hear hail beginning to pound on the veranda roof), and been talked into coming to Moomin House.

He didn't always come there for shelter, even now – it could be too loud for him, too crowded, not enough places to go and know he would be left in solitude for awhile to recharge.

Moominmamma was glad he'd come here this time – this storm was promising to be a nasty one, and he would have been soaked to the skin before he found other shelter, and there was a good chance there wouldn't have been dry wood for a fire – and that was before she factored in the surprise hail.

He and Moomin came into the room where she and Snorkmaiden were sitting with some sewing. Embroidery this time, some decorations for a dress for Snorkmaiden while Moominmamma hemmed a few dishcloths which had gotten a bit worn.

Snufkin came around the table to greet Moominmamma with a quick hug.

“What are you making?” he asked, leaning over her shoulder, his paws still resting on her arm.

Moominmamma was incredibly pleased with his casual touching but didn't let it show beyond a sway of her tail, holding up her sewing to show him. He reached out and ran a careful, gentle paw along the stitches as she explained.

“You can sew, can't you, Snufkin?” Snorkmaiden asked.

Snufkin shrugged. “I can muddle my way through basic mending. I hadn't seen this stitch before.”

“Would you like to learn some?” Moominmamma asked. She involuntarily glanced at his smock, which was a little more ragged than usual along the hems, and with a new rip along a seam. “A ladder stitch would sew that rip up so no one would be able to tell it was ever there.”

Snufkin glanced down at his smock, mouthing the words “Ladder stitch?”

A moment later he had a chair drawn up next to Moominmamma and his own needle and thread and cloth, copying what she did as she walked him through the stitches.

Moomin joined them a minute later, curious, as they started their own small sewing circle.

\---XXX---

Snufkin came back to his campsite to find Moomin, Snorkmaiden, Sniff, and Little My waiting for him.

“Snufkin,” Snorkmaiden started sternly, looking from him to the bundle of cloth in his hands, “People are talking. You've been getting scraps of cloth from all over, and it's not like you to collect things. We want to know what's going on.”

Little My tugged at the bundle Snufkin was carrying, revealing a bunch of clean but random bits of cloth, and she looked up at him, a foot tapping as she waited for an answer.

His mouth opened and closed before he sighed, leading them to the logs that had made their way to his campsite for seating, near to the garden Moominmamma had planted for him.

Snufkin disappeared into his tent for a moment before coming back out with a different bundle of cloth.

He opened it, revealing what looked almost like a blanket. “It's a patchwork quilt,” he said, looking as though he were fighting not to blush, his tail curling around himself. “For Moominmamma. She's been...well, it's her.”

Snorkmaiden reached out and touched his shoulder before gently running her fingers over the quilt, the other three watching and waiting, taking their lead from her. “It's her. And it's so cheerful,” she said. “May we help? Quilts are a lot of work, and take a lot of time. It would be hard to take on the road if it's not finished by winter.”

Snufkin hesitated, looking at the others and seeing only enthusiasm. “I...okay. It is a lot.”

“Shouldn't you be making yourself one?” Little My asked. “Your blanket's getting kinda worn, isn't it?”

“I'll do one for myself next,” Snufkin said mildly. “I wanted the prettiest scraps for Mamma's quilt.”

Snorkmaiden and Moomin glanced at each other but didn't say anything.

\---XXX---

They found themselves gathering at Snufkin's tent in the evenings to work on the quilt, as Snufkin's solo project became a group one.

He was a little irritated about that now and again, but the quilt was coming together a lot faster now – it had been taking much longer than anticipated, with all the small scraps he had to work with, with all the hand sewing that always took longer than one thought it would – and it was no great burden to spend time with Snorkmaiden and Moomin, Little My and Sniff.

It sort of made it more fun, sitting around the quilt and talking and laughing with the others, and he could still work on it alone when he wanted to, for the simple pleasure of seeing it come together in quiet.

\---XXX---

Moominmamma was teaching Snufkin embroidery along with the basic sewing skills, so he and Snorkmaiden showed the others how to do a basic back stitch, and all three of them sewed their names into the quilt's border at Snorkmaiden's urging.

From there is was assembling the quilt – tacking down the middle layer so it wouldn't shift and bunch up and sewing on the backing to make a full quilt. That part was more difficult than the rest, and harder than ever to keep Moominmamma from seeing.

\---XXX---

The look on Moominmamma's face when she was presented with the quilt was worth every minute of finding scraps, every prick of the needle, ever minute spent laboring over the quilt and wondering if they'd bitten off more than they could manage.

They thought she might cry for a minute, especially after a beaming Snorkmaiden told her how they'd all helped, but it had been Snufkin's idea, that he'd started it without them.

She held each of them tight, with an extra squeeze for Snufkin, a paw through his hair, trying to silently convey how much she loved him.

From the way his tail flew behind him, she thought he might have an idea.

\---XXX---

A week later, Moominmamma sat down for a small break in the sunshine, draping the quilt over herself as the air was starting to get chill.

It had been a long day, and without meaning to, she found herself dropping off into a well-deserved nap.

When she woke, the quilt was tucked in properly around her, and Snufkin was stretched across her lap, deeply asleep and purring with each exhale.

Moominmamma smiled fondly, stroking his back and feeling the purr deepen.

Well, she could hardly get up now, could she?

Still smiling, she went back to sleep, her paw resting on Snufkin's back as they napped together in the sunbeam.

\---XXX---

It was harvesting season now, time to prepare for the winter.

Moominmamma and Snufkin knelt side by side in his small garden, with Moominmamma explaining how to harvest and compost the garden so it would be ready to plant come spring.

Snufkin sat back on his heels, taking a moment to look over Moomin Valley.

Moominmamma paused, looking over at Snufkin and waiting to see if he was going to speak.

The wind rustled through the plants, playing with Snufkin's hair and the brim of his hat.

“I've been so many places, but there really isn't anywhere like Moomin Valley,” he said softly. “There are prettier places, maybe, and more peaceful.”

Snufkin glanced down at his tail, curled around his legs where he knelt, and smiled gently. “I used to think I'd never see my tail again. In all the places I've been, no where has ever just accepted me the way you do here. Sometimes, it's hard to believe you're all real.”

Moominmamma sat back on her heels, offering an arm, and Snufkin leaned against her side, and they sat together in silence.

“...I don't think I realized how much I wished I had someone like you in my life before,” he said, so softly Moominmamma could barely hear him.

\---XXX---

Moomin knew Snufkin had to leave, but it still made him sad each year. So they spent extra time together as the days grew shorter and the time to leave approached.

As Snufkin was still helping Moominmamma and learning from her, that meant that Moomin was getting lessons now in canning and preserving.

Since he'd woken up during the winter before, he and Snorkmaiden and Little My, Moominmamma wanted a few more things put away and ready just in case, so they wouldn't have to live off of jam again.

And in case they had visitors once again.

Some of it, Snufkin was sure, was going to be slipped into his bag, not in the glass jars – he would have to get rid of those later if she did, which was a waste of a good jar – but in other containers he could reuse and were less likely to break on his journey.

He should have been annoyed by that, by how spoiled they were making him (by his standards) but he couldn't.

It was too nice to have a mother fussing over him in her own, non-invasive way, to be annoyed.

\---XXX---

Snufkin's bag was a bit heavier than usual as he hefted it onto the veranda, a fact he very carefully ignored.

Moomin was waiting to say goodbye – Snufkin preferred to slip away, but here, he needed to say a proper goodbye, and to promise he'd return come spring.

Because he wanted to. It was his choice, and he made the promise easily. It wasn't tying him down if it was his choice.

When he'd finally realized that these people were home, and it was a place to return to, not somewhere that would tie him down and restrict his freedom. That he was freer than ever, even with them waiting for him to return.

But this year, Moomin wasn't the only one waiting for his goodbye.

Snorkmaiden and Little My waited for their hugs as well, waited for their goodbyes and farewells, squeezing tight and lovingly (surprisingly so, for Little My).

Moominpappa ruffled his hair and gave Snufkin a hug, warm and loving and engulfing him in thick winter fur before letting go.

Moominmamma looped a new scarf around Snufkin's neck, making him stop and touch the knitted length lightly.

“Don't argue,” she said, gently booping his nose. “It's yarn that needed used, and yours is more hole than scarf. Next year I'll teach you to make something new with the old yarn, if you'd like.”

Snufkin laughed, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“I love you, Mamma,” he whispered into her shoulder.

“I love you, too, darling,” she whispered back. “You take care of yourself out there.”

“I will.” Snufkin stood back and beamed at them all, giving Moominmamma one last squeeze of paws and Moomin one last hug before stepping off the porch. “I'll be back in the spring. Sleep well.”

He waved, hefted his pack into position, and set off.

He needed to travel, needed his solitude and the feeling of walking alone for nothing but the joy of it – but it was still good to know home was waiting when he was ready to return to it.

And come springtime in Moomin Valley, he would be. His family was waiting for him, after all.


End file.
